


some other day

by copperwings



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst, Ash hates himself what else is new, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Nightmares, No Manga Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-24 01:22:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16170719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/copperwings/pseuds/copperwings
Summary: Every time he wakes up in the middle of the night like this, there is half a second of confused panic because he’s absolutely sure that if he looks to his left, the bed next to his is going to be empty.





	some other day

Ash sits up so abruptly that he kicks the blanket off the bed.

His breaths come in ragged bursts and his eyes scan the opposite wall in panicked movements, flitting across the familiar landscape of striped wallpaper and framed pictures. His body is covered in cold sweat that makes his hair stick to his temples, and there is a strangling feeling inside his throat. It hurts to swallow because the muscles in his throat are pulled taut, stretched out like a rubber band that’s ready to snap.

Every time he wakes up in the middle of the night like this, there is half a second of confused panic because he’s absolutely sure that if he looks to his left, the bed next to his is going to be empty.

He forces himself to lie back down on the bed and blinks at the ceiling, waiting for his breathing to calm down. The streetlights from below reflect a rectangular pool of light on the ceiling, and he can make out the familiar shape of the ceiling fan. _It’s okay_ , he tells himself. If the opposite wall and the ceiling are the way they always are, the bed next to his will be too.

He forces his head to turn with slow, deliberate muscle commands.

On the other bed, the blankets form a mound that resembles a molehill made of sheets and a duvet. There’s a leg poking out from under the covers at the foot of the bed, and a tuft of jet black hair sticking out on the opposite side of Mount Blanket.

Ash stares at the resting form on the bed, holding still until he can be sure that the pile of blankets rises and falls evenly along the slow breaths of deep sleep.

Ash lets out a shaky exhale of relief.

Everything is where it’s supposed to be. The framed pictures on the wall are in their places, the ceiling fan looks the same, and Eiji—

Eiji is right here in this room with him.

Eiji is safe.

Eiji has not decided he’s had enough of Ash being a callous murderer and left in the dead of the night.

Ash swallows and the tightness in his throat eases, but his mouth feels dry. He sits up, dangling his legs off the edge of the bed as he watches Eiji sleeping.

He reaches down to pull the fallen blanket back to his bed and gets up. His bare feet make no sound as he circles around the bed to see Eiji’s face, soft and sleep-relaxed. Eiji’s hair is sticking in every possible direction and his mouth is cracked open. He makes these soft snorting noises that remind Ash of the hedgehogs that used to visit their garden during warm summer nights at the Cape, lifetimes ago.

Ash pads out of the bedroom and goes to the kitchen to grab some water. His movements are silent even when they don’t necessarily have to be. It’s instinct by now.

Just like it’s instinct that he knows when he’s being watched.

Ash turns to see Eiji standing in the bedroom doorway, blinking sleepily and yawning. Like Ash, he’s barefoot, dressed only in boxers and a t-shirt with a faded print on it.

Ash stares at the shirt. He’s sure it’s one of his, but he doesn’t know if that means something.

“Ash?”

Ash startles and looks up from the shirt to meet Eiji’s eyes. “Go back to sleep,” he says. His voice sounds raspy, so he swallows a gulp of water. The cool liquid feels soothing sliding down his throat.

“Are you going somewhere?” Eiji looks young even when he’s fully awake, but in his half-asleep state with his hair sticking out, he looks even younger. His eyes are concerned and his brows draw close together with worry.

Ash raises the water bottle. “I just came to get some water. I’ll be right back.”

He only realizes how tense Eiji was when Eiji’s shoulders relax visibly at the words. Eiji mumbles something and turns to go back to bed.

Ash hangs the water bottle from his fingertips and leans on the counter, staring at the bedroom doorway. He hears Eiji climb back into bed and settle. Ash reaches up to smooth the crease between his eyebrows.

To him, it’s instinct to wake up when he hears something; he wakes up to sounds Eiji doesn’t seem to notice. Ash was silent in his movements, he’s certain of it, but Eiji still woke up when he left the bedroom.

So what woke him up?

Was it the sudden silence; the lack of Ash’s breathing that got to Eiji through sleep? Or some deeper sense of the other’s presence that neither of them can explain?

A cold shiver runs down Ash’s spine. Eiji woke up thinking he was going somewhere, like he often does, without revealing where he’s going. Eiji hates it when he does that.

Maybe these nightmarish awakenings happen to Eiji too? Maybe he wakes up sweaty and scared and has to check that Ash is still in his bed.

Ash has never considered how his unexplained absences affect Eiji. He’s selfish, he wants Eiji to be there when he wakes up, but what about what Eiji wants?

What if Eiji wants the same?

Ash downs the rest of the water bottle in greedy gulps. The thin plastic shrinks on itself, only to return to its original form with loud cracks when his mouth leaves the bottle. He discards the bottle and spends a few moments gathering his thoughts, tapping the tiled kitchen floor with his toes.

Eiji is quiet when Ash comes back into the bedroom, but he’s not sleeping. His breaths fall unnaturally quiet, like he’s listening to Ash moving in the room.

Ash slides under the blanket and turns to his side, facing away from Eiji’s bed. He wills his breathing to slow down and makes his muscles slump in forced relaxation.

What follows is a choreography that is never discussed in the light of the day; a dance of a moth to the flame. Eiji plays the part of the moth and Ash is the flame; burning destruction that singes everything he touches.

Eiji doesn’t seem to care as he crosses the small space between their beds, crawls under the blanket and presses against Ash’s back.

Ash feels Eiji relax and drift off. He takes a few minutes to enjoy the way Eiji’s breaths flutter against his hair.

It’s their nightly dance, never discussed but something they both instinctively know they need.

Ash needs Eiji, selfishly, greedily. He needs the balancing power of good that Eiji brings with him. He can only pray his flame doesn’t destroy Eiji before he can find the strength to push him away. To protect him. To prevent his destruction.

Because Ash is nothing but destruction, and Eiji is too good for that.

_I will tell him to leave_ , Ash says to himself.

He will tell Eiji to leave, but not tonight. Tonight, he waits until Eiji is in deep sleep before turning around, wrapping his arms around Eiji’s slender frame and burying his nose in Eiji’s hair.

He will tell Eiji to leave.

Some other day.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first venture into writing Banana Fish. Just a short ficlet that was kind of sort of inspired by a fictober prompt "barefoot".  
> -  
> Find me on [tumblr](https://worldofcopperwings.tumblr.com).


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